


A gift

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Double Anal Penetration, Double Penetration, Double Penetration in One Hole, M/M, Mild Praise Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Omnics, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 20:56:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21214955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *Mondatta/Genji/Zenyatta* written for Kinktober 2019 - day 28





	A gift

**Author's Note:**

> prompt and ship offered by Borb @greenhairedninja

**A gift**

Genji knows how he looks.

There are scars crisscrossed all over his body, a few of them on his face, and a lot around where the remaining parts of his human body connect with the machine keeping him alive. The augmentations are not exactly like his actual skin and flesh, and the ghost of the difference haunts him sometimes.

Every day, it is a fight against hate.

Yet, those he’s waiting for don’t care about any of it, call him beautiful nonetheless, with a kind of fascination that, were it anyone else, Genji would call uncomfortable… except, it is not.

Zenyatta calls him a survivor, with that breathless, awed tone that makes Genji feel self-conscious, like his soul is too big for his body, his skin tingling with an embarrassment that borders into something else, something deeper and consuming and _wanting_.

Mondatta calls him reborn, through fire and hatred, cleansed and taking his first steps as his new self, learning his limits and about himself, and even his tone shifts into something respectful, proud, and Genji soaks it all in and can’t help but want more.

The small man that Genji feels he is breathes this love, this acceptance, and though he cannot agree yet, cannot find it in himself to love what they see in him yet, he’s grown to learn to accept it, crave for it, lean on them for that emotion he so craves that they give freely to him, in any way he desires.

They give him everything he wants, everything he needs, and more, and in turn Genji wants to give all of himself to them, until they have him forever, and he has them forever back.

Certain days, that means having Mondatta’s voice guide him as he buries himself inside Zenyatta, so deep it feels they are merging into one, fucking into him until Zenyatta is screaming and clawing at his back as Mondatta watches, optical receptors burning, and then takes Genji until he cannot stand.

Other days, it means watching Mondatta and Zenyatta grind into one another, slow and steady, slick and wet and aching as Genji burns next to them, panting hard with every movements, every peek of their valves glistening with slick, of their cocks brushing into one another, until they climax, and Genji slides between them and kisses them until he comes, sandwiched between them.

A few it is Genji and Mondatta, with Zenyatta aching to touch but forbidden to do anything as they rut into one another, whispered words of praise getting both Zenyatta and Genji off in such a way that they feel raw and exposed.

Most times, they tumble in bed together, mouths and mouthpieces and fingers and skin and metal all mixing up so much Genji has no idea where one starts and the other ends…

And every day Genji’s desire grows, and so does his love.

He is allowed to have more –they tell him so all the time, enough that he starts to believe it.

It is this desire that hastens his movements as he coats his fingers with lubrication, perhaps not as much as he’d need if he was taking his time, but enough that it takes away the worst of the sting.

The first finger goes in easily, and Genji shuffles on his knees, thighs spread apart to give himself better access.

His cock stirs, more at the promise of what’s to come than at what he’s doing, and Genji chuckles, quietly, and thinks how it would feel to give a show to Zenyatta, to Mondatta, if they were there.

Genji takes his time, smiling when the radio returns to him the sound of Mondatta during his speech. He doesn’t listen to the words but focuses on his voice, the deep undertones, the pace, and groans a little as he continues to finger himself, slowly, finding a pace that is just right.

The second finger burns a little more, and Genji chases the sensation with his hips, angling himself so he’s rocking onto both fingers, scissoring them inside him again and again, exhaling a shivery breath when Mondatta’s voice raises louder, taken by his speech.

He wishes Zenyatta could talk, too –not for the benefit of any of the people listening, but for him, listening from the room they share, because Zenyatta’s voice is…

“Hnnn–”

The friction is good, and Genji shivers, his cock growing harder, and he almost doesn’t add more lubrication before continuing, but his aim is for more than a single cock tonight, and he knows that if he doesn’t do this, he won’t get what he wants.

Idly, he wonders what Zenyatta thinks –it’s a first for Genji not to be with them, but they promised to come back as soon as Mondatta was done, and Genji’s mouth waters at the thought, fingers fumbling with the lubrication before returning inside him, spreading him, preparing him.

All he wants is for them to be here –but as they are not yet, he will get ready for them.

Time loses meaning, and Genji gets lost in himself, rocking onto his fingers as he pushes a third in. The angle isn’t the best, but his legs tingle and his cock grows fully hard, and that’s enough to keep him going.

It feels good –the friction is constant, just like he likes it, and he manages to brush his finger against his prostate, making his mouth fall open in a breathless gasp as he repeats the motion, rubs it gently and clenches his eyes shut.

He chases the feeling, a little desperate, and doesn’t realise the radio has switched to jazz music. His thoughts are on Zenyatta and Mondatta, on getting ready before they arrive, on their voices and the way the soft metal feels against his skin, against his prosthetics, the way they will feel inside him, gentle but demanding, the way he wants to make them stutter as he takes them both–

“My, Genji, if you had wanted some more alone time, you should have said so.”

Genji falters and gasps, and his eyes flutter open.

It takes a moment for him to focus, but then he grins, lazy and shameless, and arches his back so Zenyatta, on the door, can watch his erect cock bobbing slightly, and the way he has three fingers inside himself.

“Never alone time, master,” he murmurs, teasing and breathless, and Zenyatta startles, surprised at the use of the familiar nickname. “I was simply filling… my time, waiting for your return.”

“Ah… so you have been good for us, then?”

Genji gasps a little, a jolt of pleasure running down his back at the words, and he nods, even as his fingers slip out of him, leaving him empty and aching.

“I can be even better,” he says, and doesn’t care if he sounds desperate. “Where… where is Mondatta?”

“He stopped to speak with brother Saji, but will be there soon.”

Zenyatta’s optical receptors are glued to Genji’s cock, hungry in a way that even Genji can read, without expression, and Genji’s hand reaches down to touch himself.

“Oh, no, Genji. We can’t have that yet.”

Genji’s hand snaps away quickly, and he swallows, eyes wide, cheeks burning.

He’s only now realising that he’s taken his fingering a little further than he planned, and he’s aching now, his cock throbbing for a touch that has been forbidden.

“You got yourself ready for us, it would be uncouth to finish without allowing us a taste,” Zenyatta continues, and steps towards the bed, optics never leaving Genji’s form.

“That’s true,” he manages to say, swallowing. “But you’re here, _now_.”

Zenyatta slides on the bed on his knees, right in front of Genji, and one hand caresses a patch from his cheek down his naked chest, fingers caressing his nipple, then lower, though he stops before he can reach Genji’s cock.

“Will you touch me, master?” he asks, breathlessly, and Zenyatta leans close enough he can brush a small omnic kiss against Genji’s parted lips. “Please,” Genji asks again, and kisses back, presses against Zenyatta’s body with his own, and his hands slide down his front, tug at his pants, at his pristine kasaya. “_Please_,” he repeats, almost whining, and this time Zenyatta chuckles.

“Spoiled,” he murmurs, but he allows Genji to tug his pants down, just enough to show his modesty panel. “Perhaps you should help me out, then, Genji?”

Genji is on him only a second later, mouth pressing feverish kisses over his modesty panel, licking at it, fingers unlatching it even before Zenyatta can make it slide away on his own, and then–

“_Ah_–!”

Genji’s mouth is on him, tongue flicking over the head of his prosthetic cock, drawing it out from its sheathe, and takes him in with practiced ease, swallowing around it until Zenyatta’s thoughts scatter and he’s thrusting into that mouth, hands caressing Genji’s scalp and tugging on his hair.

There is little time to think, and Genji moans as he sucks on Zenyatta, licks and laps around the thick, metallic shaft until he feels a dribble of slick down his throat, and then he swallows, hand coming to grip the base of Zenyatta’s cock, thumb barely brushing into the glowing nub just below that.

He wants to devote himself to Zenyatta’s valve, plunge his tongue inside him until Zenyatta climaxes on him, arching off the bed with a cry, but more than that, he wants Zenyatta to come inside him, so he refrains, teases Zenyatta’s cock with his mouth and his cock, and moans around it.

It smells like metal but also like the lube they picked for Zenyatta, which drips sweet and thick on the back of his tongue, and Genji shudders and takes him deeper, choking himself on Zenyatta’s cock until beads of precum pool over the tip of his cock and he has to clench his thighs together, needing friction.

Above him, Zenyatta tugs hard on his hair, trying to get him off, and Genji feels in the tension of Zenyatta’s body that he is close –so he relents, moves away slowly, and licks his swollen lips.

“Genji…” Zenyatta’s synth crackles with static, but before he can speak, Mondatta clears his synth from the door.

“Not that I wouldn’t wish to see this continue to its natural end,” he murmurs, hands linked behind his back, “but it would spoil all the work Genji has done for us.”

“You… you know?” Genji coughs, swallowing, and looks up at Mondatta with flushed cheeks.

“I had my suspicions when you decided not to come with us, little sapling.”

“Will you–”

“When you have gone to such lengths to get yourself ready, it would be a waste not to have you.” Mondatta moves closer, leans forwards, presses a kiss over Genji’s lips and one on Zenyatta’s faceplate, and circles around them, humming.

“Master,” Zenyatta murmurs, and Genji feels him shiver. He’s close, and Genji flushes with pride at the thought that he did this.

“Genji, lift yourself up a little… thank you, my dear,” Mondatta shuffles behind him, and Genji hisses as he feels Zenyatta mimic Mondatta, the two of them pressing against Genji from both sides, sandwiching him between them.

Having them both there –Genji reaches forwards, pressing kisses on Zenyatta’s faceplate, then on his neck; they’re here with him now, and he heats up just by that, both of them against him, even if it’s not enough.

He feels Zenyatta’s cock against his and thrusts forwards a bit, only to have Mondatta’s hands come to his hips to stop him.

“Now, now. Let us, my darling.” Mondatta presses a kiss on Genji’s nape, and Genji arches up into it, the ripple of omnic energy against the sensitive mix of skin and wires making him shudder.

Mondatta kisses him again, a little lower, and Genji laughs and shivers –it both tickles and feels good, and when Zenyatta shifts to kiss at his chest, where his heart is, Genji has to bite down on his lower lip, feeling ready to burst when they haven’t even _started_ yet.

“I need…” he can barely speak, lust a haze around him.

“I know,” Zenyatta reassures him, and his hand, delicate and soft, comes down to grip his cock, tight enough Genji almost winces –but it helps.

Even then, it takes all he has not to thrust into the touch.

“We have you, Genji,” Mondatta tells him.

Genji tries to turn around, to look at Mondatta, but Zenyatta holds his face and kisses him again.

One hand caresses the curve of his ass, and Genji whines when a finger presses against his entrance, testing him, cooler against the heated skin. “Please,” he breathes against Zenyatta, until Zenyatta kisses him again and silences him.

There’s a flash of golden behind him, and then Genji feels hands spread his cheeks, and fingers sliding into him, slowly, so slowly they make him ache.

“Harder–” he pushes back, but Zenyatta again stops him, holds him still.

“A little longer, Genji –not enough lube, I fear,” Mondatta murmurs, but there is no disappointment in his tone, and Genji whines again.

Fingers push into him –one, then a second, and a third, and then a fourth, warm and soothing, and he feels Mondatta’s Harmony seep into him, and his muscles relax, but with every finger comes a frisson of pleasure, building inside him until it bubbles close to the surface, then simmers when Mondatta stops… and starts again seconds later.

“Ah…–”

Genji arches up, only to find Zenyatta’s body in front of him, steely and strong, and he can’t go anywhere, he can only take this delicious torture, vision blurred as he looks up at the ceiling, mouth parted to breathe.

“Soon,” Mondatta murmurs again, soothing, and then something bigger finally replaces his fingers, holding him steady as it slides inside him slowly, filling him, stretching him and making him burn.

“Mondatta–!”

Zenyatta holds him still, kisses him again, grabs his wrists and holds them down against his thighs, and Genji is trapped and shaking as Mondatta continues to push into him, tugging his hips back, leading him to lean on him.

He feels full already, the familiar shape of Mondatta’s cock rubbing inside him, but it’s not enough. Zenyatta is hot against him, and then his hand wrap around his cock again, tight and unforgiving.

“Yes, just like that, Genji –you are doing so good…” Zenyatta purrs, breathless, and his forehead array is so bright Genji’s eyes flutter close. “You’re taking him so well, and now you’ll have me too, won’t you?”

“Yes, please, master, I need both of you, _please_–”

“Of course, my dear. All you want, I will give to you.”

Genji, eyes still close, feels Zenyatta’s hand slide between his legs, until it touches Mondatta’s cock, buried inside him, and pushes a finger inside, spreading Genji enough he feels a sudden sting, yet he tries to angle himself for him, teeth gritted in a whine.

“Shhh… I’m coming, Genji. Trust me.”

“_Always_–”

Zenyatta pushes him further into Mondatta’s body and then he’s on him, parting his thighs to expose him, cock so hard it’s almost painful and Genji feels–

“More, more, more–”

The fingers spread him again, and Zenyatta’s cock nudges in, replacing them, pushing into him so slowly, rubbing against Mondatta’s cock, against Genji’s walls, filling him enough to leave him breathless, and Genji isn’t aware he’s speaking, moaning out their names, pleading as Zenyatta continues to push inside, servos shaking, he doesn’t know anything anymore except the delicious friction, the feeling of being so full he can barely move, the rest of his body so heavy and buzzing with energy he doesn’t know what to do, and… and–

“Breathe, Genji,” Mondatta kisses him on the neck, and the sparkle of energy is enough to get Genji to gasp, air filling his lungs.

He’s burning –Zenyatta is inside him, Mondatta is inside him too, and Genji can’t _think_.

He can’t move, he can’t do anything except _breathe_, mouth open wide, lips swollen, eyes glossed over, a haze of pleasure making him feel like he’s floating…

And then, they move.

Zenyatta thrusts up, and Genji yelps and holds onto him, biting down on the metal of his shoulder so hard he dents it.

Pleasure flares up inside him, only to double down when Mondatta moves as well, retreating as Zenyatta is fucking into him, and when Zenyatta retreats, Mondatta _thrusts_.

“Fuck–!”

“Tight,” Mondatta is moaning, and if Genji had more focus, he would feel proud.

Yet, all his careful thoughts from before scatter, and he can’t catch any of them. He wanted to ride on their dicks so hard to make them scream, but as they fuck into him, Genji realises he’s the one being loud, and he cannot _stop_.

He’s never empty –they move in tandem, the rhythm even and fast, and he bounces on their cocks without control, hanging on and moaning loud enough he’s sure everyone can hear him outside of the door.

The pleasure is constant, building inside him like fire, inevitable, and Genji breathes and moans and takes it all.

This is all he wanted, and more, and even then he wants it all, wants the burn and the stretch, the light pain and the Harmony that soothes it, the kisses all across his body, leaving behind red splotches that he will carry with pride.

He wants the moans that leave Zenyatta’s synth, overwhelmed by how tight Genji is, by Mondatta’s cock rubbing against his own.

He wants Mondatta’s breathy gasps as he presses against his back, keeping him upright when Genji’s body feels boneless with pleasure.

Genji cries out and holds onto Zenyatta when two hands wrap around his cock, stroking it, cries out even louder as he climaxes so hard he whites out for a moment, cries out until his throat burns and he pitches out, broken gasps and moans as Zenyatta and Mondatta don’t stop fucking into him, hands caressing his body, his shoulders, his abs, his ass, rubbing his cock and milking him until he comes again, sobbing, a line of drool down his chin.

When they come inside him, the loud whine that leaves his throat feels almost foreign, their climax filling him further, marking him, and he wants to thank them but his voice just won’t come.

And even then, he feels like it’s not enough.

When they gently lay him down on the bed, covered in his own climax as they slip out of him, leaving behind a trail of lubrication, Genji can only spread his thighs open, wordlessly.

He wants, he wants it all, and can’t stop asking.

“More?” Mondatta’s voice comes almost distorted, but Genji nods, desperate. “Can you–” another nod, Genji’s eyes rolling back with every soft touch against his burning frame.

He still feels like he’s too big for his body, like he is going to explode if they don’t touch him, but they know, and they don’t, warm hands on his cheeks, on his chest, on his arms…

Zenyatta climbs on him, then, and takes him deep in his valve, rides him until Genji comes again, almost sobbing, overwhelmed and oversensitive and spent, tears rolling down his cheeks, but it is enough, and he is sore and content, and–

Gently, Mondatta cleans him while Zenyatta lays against him, petting his sweaty hair, kissing his cheeks and his lips, and Genji kisses back, languid and spent, until Mondatta presses into his back, cuddling against him.

He murmurs his thanks with no sound, lips barely moving against Zenyatta’s mouthpiece, over and over again.

“Sleep, Genji,” Zenyatta murmurs, nuzzling into him.

Mondatta’s arms tighten around them, holding both Genji and Zenyatta close, and Genji nods, and does just that.


End file.
